I recently read the story of Ammon, in The Book of Mormon. There are many amazing experiences and lessons to learn from this amazing, repentant, and changed man, who becomes a valiant witness of Christ. The lesson that struck me during this reading was the protection the Lord promised Ammon’s father, King Mosiah, which was so dramatically fulfilled when a man, who raised his sword to slay an unconscious Ammon, suddenly dropped to the floor, dead.

“Now we see that Ammon could not be slain, for the Lord had said unto Mosiah, his father: I will spare him, and it shall be unto him according to thy faith—therefore, Mosiah trusted him unto the Lord.” Alma 19:23

This story is unique, in that the Lord specifically promised Mosiah that he would protect Ammon, yet there are countless examples of those who have been protected by the Lord as they went about His work.  Sometimes that work is missionary work, like Ammon’s, but there are many ways to serve the Lord, many ways to encounter challenge and danger, and many ways to be protected. This scripture also reminds us that it was by faith the miracle occurred.

Daniel was spared from hungry lions. Young David slayed the giant, Goliath. Millions of Israelites crossed the parted Red Sea. The list of times the Lord protected His disciples is a long one.  However, there is also a list of those who were not spared but sealed their testimonies with their blood, such as Stephen, Abinadi, Joseph Smith, and thousands of converted Lamanites who refused to take up weapons after repenting.

When Shadrach Meshach, and Abednego were told to bow to the idols or be cast into the fiery furnace, their response is one each of us would benefit from remembering.

“If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand, O king.  But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up.”  Daniel 3: 17-18

Those three words, “but if not,” have been spoken by other believers who were willing to serve the Lord, at any cost. The Lord is able to protect and save our physical bodies, but if not, He has already saved our souls, so we have nothing to fear.

“The Lord has given us agency, the right and the responsibility to decide. He tests us by allowing us to be challenged. He assures us that He will not suffer us to be tempted beyond our ability to withstand. But we must understand that great challenges make great men. We don’t seek tribulation, but if we respond in faith, the Lord strengthens us. The but if nots can become remarkable blessings…

“Our God will deliver us from ridicule and persecution, but if not. … Our God will deliver us from sickness and disease, but if not …He will deliver us from loneliness, depression, or fear, but if not…He will deliver us from death or impairment of loved ones, but if not…we will have faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, knowing that if we do all we can do, we will, in His time and in His way, be delivered and receive all that He has.” Dennis E. Simmons

Faith isn’t believing God will do whatever we ask in faith; it’s believing He will do what is best for everyone involved, no matter how it looks to us in our limited understanding. We do the best we can, trusting Him to help us get through whatever we are called to endure and use it for our good.

I’m inspired and amazed at the courage and faith of many who are willing to love and serve others despite risk to themselves. Of course, Jesus was the epitome of loving and serving the sick and afflicted. Countless others have followed His example to relieve suffering, including missionaries, who have served all over the world, and healthcare workers, who often risk their own health serving others.  My family has personally been blessed by loving friends willing to come and minister, even during serious illness.

I was touched by a talk given by Robert C. Gay, in the October 2018 General Conference of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, about taking upon ourselves the name of Christ.  He shared,

“I recently learned about an experience in the life of Elder James E. Talmage that caused me to pause and consider how I love and serve those around me. As a young professor, before he became an Apostle, in the height of the deadly diphtheria epidemic of 1892, Elder Talmage discovered a family of strangers, not members of the Church, who lived near him and who were stricken by the disease. No one wanted to put themselves at risk by going inside the infected home. Elder Talmage, however, immediately proceeded to the home. He found four children: a two-and-a-half-year-old dead on the bed, a five-year-old and ten-year-old in great pain, and a weakened thirteen-year-old. The parents were suffering with grief and fatigue.

“Elder Talmage dressed the dead and the living, swept the rooms, carried out the soiled clothing, and burned filthy rags covered with the disease. He worked all day and then returned the next morning. The ten-year-old died during the night. He lifted and held the five-year-old. She coughed bloody mucus all over his face and clothes. He wrote, “I could not put her from me,” and he held her until she died in his arms. He helped bury all three children and arranged for food and clean clothing for the grieving family. Upon returning home, Brother Talmage disposed of his clothes, bathed in a zinc solution, quarantined himself from his family, and suffered through a mild attack of the disease.”

Elder Gay closes with these words:

“So many lives around us are at stake. Saints take the Savior’s name upon themselves by becoming holy and ministering to all regardless of where or how they stand—lives are saved as we do so.”

Reading that talk again in May 2020 pierced my heart. Though most of us are not called to do such difficult and courageous acts, we are each able to ask what the Lord would have us do, listen for the Spirit to guide us, and then put aside fear to courageously act on what we have heard and felt. If we do that, taking His name upon us, all will be well with our souls, no matter the outcome.

And should we die before our journey’s through,
Happy day! All is well!
We then are free from toil and sorrow, too;
With the just we shall dwell!
But if our lives are spared again
To see the Saints their rest obtain,
Oh, how we’ll make this chorus swell—
All is well! All is well!

William Clayton, 1814–1879

I never really thought about my name much when I was younger.  I grew up as Jennifer McEwen (mik-you-in). McEwen was a difficult last name.  Nobody knew how to say it or spell it.  I said it and spelled it out loud, a million times! When I was little, my family called me Jenny.  My teachers and friends called me Jennifer.  I sometimes made up a name it would be fun to have, like Rose. When I was 11, I decided to name one of my daughter’s Rose. (I never did, though.)

When I got married, as a young adult, I happily took my husband’s last name.  To me it meant becoming one—united—starting a new family unit. Plus, it meant I wouldn’t have to say and spell my last name over and over anymore; everybody can pronounce Barker.  I liked having that new name, and I loved my husband’s parents and siblings, increasing my extended family.  It was a little weird at first, especially at church, where people called me “Sister Barker.” Although I love my mother-in-law dearly, I didn’t want to be called the same name.  Many years later, I chose “Gran” as my grandma name, because “Grandma Barker” was my mother-in-law, not me.

My children had to deal with the typical juvenile name-calling and teasing about barking dogs and such (does anybody escape that?), but Barker is pretty mild in that regard. Year after year our family grew…and grew, until there were 7 Barker kids.  We worked hard, doing the best we could to establish a Christ-Centered home, including sleepy family scripture study before early morning seminary, family prayer, (largely uncivilized) family home evenings, chaotic dinner together every night around the table, and family traditions.  One tradition, still continued today, was our holiday talent show, usually performed after Thanksgiving dinner.  We always had varying musical talents, including singing, piano, violin, ukulele and guitar, but we’ve also enjoyed, throughout the years, a variety of other talents such as Lego creations, magic tricks, artwork and video presentations, dancing, sign language, and even speedy Rubik’s Cube solving.  We were the Barker Family, with a subset of Barker kids who were intelligent, talented, and beautiful as a group and in their own individual ways.  Also tall! They looked and acted like siblings and had an identity and belonging as part of the Barker family, especially in our church family, where they all grew up and were loved by many. With nine of us, we filed in to church together each week and took up one whole pew.  We shared our testimonies and helped each other stay strong in our faith.  Time has dulled the frustration of the drama, fighting, and mutiny that occurred on Sunday mornings, and sharpened the sweetness of those memories.  Now, I sit in church each week with my youngest daughter, grateful that she is with me for a few more years, and more than a little sad that my row is no longer filled with a small army of funny, annoying, wonderful little children. 

After my divorce, I struggled with my identity, my name.  Who am I now? I had been Jennifer Barker for 30 years—10 years longer than I had been Jennifer McEwen.  I didn’t feel like either of those people anymore. My closest connection to the name Barker had been severed, and it felt like I had been cut adrift.  For a time, I considered changing my name back to McEwen.  My associations with that name were fond ones; my loving dad, who died only a few years ago, and my mom and sisters, who have been there my whole life and seen me through these rough post-divorce years, are all part of my McEwen identity. Changing a name, however, isn’t quick and easy, and I was hesitant about having a last name differing from that of my children.

One afternoon, I was driving home from church with my daughter. She was filling out a questionnaire-type form, for an activity in her church youth group, about what made her unique.  It was anonymous, and the other kids were supposed to figure out who each form described. There were questions about favorite foods and movies and such. One question asked, “What’s your claim to fame?”  She and I humorously discussed possible responses, for a couple of minutes, and then she said, “I would say, ‘I am a Barker kid,’ but then everyone would know who it was.”  We chuckled about that, but after she went inside, I sat in the car for a few minutes thinking about what she had said.  Yes, she was a Barker kid.  It was part of her identity and her “claim to fame.” Tears came to my eyes. I was incredibly grateful she knew what it meant to be a Barker kid, that she felt that connection. Some of my daughters are married, and no longer have Barker as their last name, but they will always be one of the Barker kids. It occurred to me then, that I am also a Barker.  I’m happily part of that crazy, wonderful, talented group; I still belong to them and to that name.

The name of the church I belong to has always been The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, since it was first organized in 1830, by Joseph Smith Jr., a prophet, called of God to restore Christ’s original church in the latter-days. Many people don’t know that name for Christ’s church.  Some know it as the “Mormon Church,” because a book of scripture we believe in was abridged by, and named after, Mormon, an ancient prophet. Others know it as the “LDS” Church, which stands for Latter-Day Saints.

Jesus Christ is central to the church. The Prophet Joseph Smith declared,

“The fundamental principles of our religion are the testimony of the Apostles and Prophets, concerning Jesus Christ, that He died, was buried, and rose again the third day, and ascended into heaven; and all other things which pertain to our religion are only appendages to it.” 

Russel M. Nelson, the President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and a prophet of God, said, recently in a General Conference,

“Jesus Christ directed us to call the Church by His name because it is His Church, filled with His power.”

Admittedly, it’s a long name for a church, however, it’s my blessing to use it, sharing with others that I believe in Jesus Christ and follow Him. 

Both my last name, and the name of my church, are part of my eternal identity.  I’m thankful and comforted knowing that I belong to an amazing family, here on earth, and to an eternal family in Heaven.